A Valentine Story by Jerome Frank

This is how it began.

Does it really begin?

Was it not always there?

A warmth, a longing, a yearning in the heart, a subtle waiting and a subtle wanting.

But this is how their love began– with a chance and an unexpected meeting– in a place not arranged, in a moment not prepared– ticked off by a clock private only to them. Here the first stolen glance, the sudden swift awareness, and then something ancient and marvelous, old as the rhythym of the blood is there.

It does not matter who is possessed or who is the possessor– Dante first saw Beatrice at prayer. Romeo glimpsed Juliet at a ball. Then love unerring and unafraid could find itself amidst a crowd, aboard a ferry boat, where a seaman first sees her then follows, not sure, yet not so unsure. Ask him now if he remembers the first words. He cannot. But he spoke and she answered and laughed and giggled a little too much. They could know that over them, in this winged moment, hovered the ghost of all the lovers who were, encouraging him, reassuring her. She wonders uncertain. Is this right? And ought I? And what will he think of me?

Love has its moods, its frets, its wayfarers dark twisting paths. They are embarked upon a strange adventure. A pilgrimage to an unknown country, that is another’s self, that is another’s heart, and mind and soul.

When pride is gone, dismissing the fault, how do you conjugate the word to love? I should have? — You should have? — or We should have?

Love’s season has its parties because that is its special destiny. He must go for a little while. There is only silence as she accompanies him part of the way. Dreading the separation that cannot be stayed, the hour that must come. They two against the world. They two an island in themselves. He thinks— how do you say good-bye? Shall I leave now? Ought I to go or stay? Will one word help or be too much? How do you say goodbye when the word is caught in your throat, when the word is as heavy as a stone at the bottom of your heart.

But soon he is home. Suddenly, the unseen is seen. The cherished is as near as her own pulse beat. Nothing counts now but that he is home. Time is vanished. Today is tomorrow.

This is how love becomes — not in sadness — not in ecstasy, but in thankfulness — not in a thunderclap, but in slow silences.

It does not matter who the possessed or who the possessor was because the universe and all that was or ever will be, is caught in this one love — and this is what Dante knew, what Romeo dreamt — and all lovers remember, who remember, when love began.

*As written by Naty B. Luis from memory

WHAT I WANT.

I realized; I should be thankful for EVERYTHING I have and EVERYTHING I am. 

Because these make me HUMAN. And being human means, I am loved by God.

THIS IS ALL I EVER NEEDED and ALL I WILL EVER NEED.

Most times, my heart hurts. I feel alone, far away from God, forgotten, unwanted, uncared for- I feel as though I should be doing something more. Sometimes I feel like running away. Far far away, where I can start a new life and be whoever I want to be, and have whatever I want to have. Sometimes the emotions, the wanting is so SO STRONG that I’m ready to pack my things and just leave. LEAVE EVERYTHING BEHIND.

But I am stopped in my tracks, and made to realize that- THAT IS WHAT I WANT FOR MYSELF.

This life, the one I am living now- THIS IS WHAT GOD GAVE ME. Surely, God knows what is BEST for me. And if He wants me to prove my LOVE for Him by enduring whatever I’m going through right now, I am more than willing to do so. More than willing.

Because that is, after all, our mission in life- to “ ‘Lift up your eyes and see…’ See how in my Heaven there are places empty; it is for you to fill them … each one of you is my Moses praying on the mountain (Ex 17,8f.); ask Me for laborers and I shall send them, I await only a prayer, a sigh from your heart!” (Taken from Letter 135 of Saint Therese of the Child Jesus)

Thank You, Lord. For letting me and helping me accomplish the mission You gave to me. 

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“O Jesus, Unspeakable Sweetness, please turn all consolations of this world into bitterness for me.”

-Imitation of Christ, St. Thomas a Kempis